Chapter 952: Act 123 – The Appearance (Part 2)
Above the sky, the silver fleet was locked in a fierce battle with Modest’s dragon beast army, explosions and flames endlessly licking the clouds. The roar echoed through the heavens and the earth, making it seem like the apocalypse had descended upon Lune below.
After hearing the question from the instructor of the Bud people, Zeka paced back and forth twice on the deck of the captain’s room. The firelight streamed through the porthole, reflecting in the young captain’s eyes as he frowned slightly, hesitating for a moment before issuing the command: “Execute the orders!”
The silver-robed wizard Wolmi stood with his hands behind his back, carefully observing his Erluin student. His silver eyes, set beneath thick eyebrows, glimmered as he said, “As far as I know, your lord has no experience commanding a fleet. In fact, he isn’t even from the navy. You have every reason to refuse his orders. You understand better than he does how to use these aerial behemoths to achieve victory. Textbooks tell you that a qualified commander should earn glory for their lord, rather than blindly obey orders—yet your eyes tell me that you haven’t lost your mind, and you’re still young enough to retain your aspirations. I am curious about your choice.”
“Because I want to see his capabilities.” Zeka walked to the porthole and looked through the crystal at the raging battlefield above. A mesmerizing silver arc was slowly retreating, creating large gaps in the center of the battlefield that could give the dragon beasts deadly climbing space, threatening to turn the battle into a rout.
But the former remained calm, without a trace of worry—
He hailed from a noble force closely linked to the royal family of Corvado, yet he had given up the opportunity to join the royal knights under the control of the future Crown Princess. Instead, he voluntarily chose to enroll in the officer training program of the White Lion Guard, a decision that seemed strange to others, but he was firm in his conviction. He was curious about the supposedly omnipotent young Earl spoken of in hushed tones, believing that only such a hero was worthy of his service. This was a sign that chaos was approaching, the storm of a thousand years was only just beginning to unfurl its great curtain.
High in the sky, the silver fleet suddenly halted, resembling flickering silver scales, and began to slowly pull back.
Young officer Marjory from the Royal Navy of the Yanilasu Province looked up, trying to comprehend the scene unfolding before her. She found herself at a loss as to why the wise and calm Earl would suddenly make such a low-level mistake—was he simply a headstrong person whose astounding military talent and sharp instinct displayed on land became ineffective in this newly opened battlefield of the sky?
After the escort fleet retreated, the dragon beasts truly seized the opportunity to ascend, attempting to gain altitude superiority—a decisive factor in previous battles that they had been unable to achieve. The Cruz nobles on the aerial bridge watched in suffocating silence as the dark clouds rose. Although they couldn’t discern the key to this battle, they could feel an increasing sense of unease.
Earl Orkans swallowed his words several times, finally unable to refrain from asking Brendel when a flame descended from the air, landing beside him.
At the same moment, Marjory also shut her mouth.
The flame parted, revealing a beautiful warhorse engulfed in pale fire, and a lithe female knight dismounting. With long hair resembling flowing fire, she was none other than Brynhildr, the chief of the Valkyries.
“Master.” Brynhildr gazed at Brendel with golden pupils, her voice calm yet deep.
“From here on, it’s up to you.” Brendel said solemnly. He had never used the Valkyrie Guard before in battle, but this time, he had no choice but to utilize it to protect Duke Toniger’s nascent navy; moreover, the resurrection of the legendary Valkyries was nothing compared to the return of Bud’s silver fleet.
“It is our duty, Master, but it is a pity that Valhalla is still too weak; we cannot always fight alongside you.” Brynhildr replied.
“There will be chances, I will do my best to rebuild the Dawn Temple.” Brendel eagerly anticipated that day—when the Valkyries would descend upon Erluin’s lands to fight for him, something even the most elite guilds could scarcely hope for in “The Amber Sword.”
“We firmly believe that day will come; the glory of the Golden Palace will surely return to this land.” Brynhildr turned her horse, raised her right hand, and a spear ignited with golden light appeared in her grasp as she shouted: “Follow me, sisters, to battle for our god Odin!”
The divine steed let out a fierce neigh, rising on its hind legs, and flames billowed from behind Brynhildr like clouds, transforming into an army of roaring fire, countless men and horses charging forth, the sounds of slaughter deafening. The four Valkyrie leaders—Oltrind, Alwahite, Lord, and Guna—appeared amidst the flames, donning feathered helmets and brandishing spears, following their queen into battle. The tide of fire pouring forth seemed like a torrent crashing down from the firmament, blocking the way of the dragon beast army.
The two armies clashed together in an instant, creating an illusion that made the whole sky seem to tremble. Blood and charred bodies rained down like raindrops, and the wailing echoed through the clouds.
The results of this momentous clash had far surpassed the prior coordinated volleys of the escort fleet.
This scene stunned Brendel; he had not anticipated how fearsome the legendary ninth-tier beings would be. While he suspected the individual combat power of Brynhildr and her companions could decisively overpower a dragon beast, he hadn’t expected them to halt the entire dragon beast army with their might. However, as Brynhildr and her flaming army emerged, the situation instantly reversed. In that moment, Brendel understood this was the unique ability of the Valkyrie queen—The Final Battle.
This was indeed a summoning ability, a rare one that could call forth multiple units. Though the specific duration of this power was unknown, the displayed strength was enough to make the Valkyries one of the top-tier forces on the continent.
An army of one—
The two flames intertwined in fierce combat, and like Brendel, all who witnessed this moment seemed entranced, nailed to the spot.
Although Orkans had suspected that the knight emerging from the flames was no ordinary person, he had not anticipated her being this extraordinary. He had firsthand experience of the terrifying dragon beasts, and now he saw the strength of the Valkyries, those were ethereal knights riding chariots of thunder and flame, traversing the skies. The Earl could not help but sweat profusely, realizing he had dared to contend against someone who commanded such an army?
This was simply—
“Truly reckless…”
Oni gazed blankly at everything before her, muttering to herself. Now she understood the source of Brendel’s confidence; possessing this kind of strength, indeed, even the Empire would be hard-pressed to confront him. The top-tier combat power of the Cruz people—the Flame Touched Knight and the Protector Priest—was hardly comparable. “But with such a person, possessing strength that the entire kingdom cannot counter, why would he be content to remain in a corner?” Another thought surfaced in this young duchess’s mind as she furrowed her brow, extinguishing any earlier ideas she had harbored.
Medusalaisimeka’s eyes sparkled with excitement, her enthusiasm barely contained as she gently patted the Erluin young prince’s head beside her, exclaiming, “Did you see that, little darling? This is the true power your teacher possesses. But I imagine there is much more; he must have even more secrets. What a mysterious man he is!”
Haruz noticed the unusual behavior of his maid and couldn’t help but turn his head, asking in confusion, “Do you really need power, Miss Laisimeka?”
“Kingdom, organization, and individuals—all things require strength, little darling. If you and your sister’s Erluin had sufficient power, could it be weakened to this extent?”
This logic seemed very simple, yet Haruz frowned slightly. Can power really bring everything? He had heard Brendel speak of the sulfur river, where there was also a world that pursued extreme power—the realm of demons, barren and devoid of life. Power seemed to bring everything, but it also seemed incapable of bringing anything at all. What was lacking in between, he could not figure out.
The two fell into silence for a moment, while at the same time, everyone within the Erluin delegation had their own thoughts.
“He really didn’t disappoint me!” Zeka couldn’t help but fiercely shake his fist, the might of that ethereal army stirring him. What royalist, what royal knights? The superficiality and shortsightedness of his companions seemed laughably shallow in the face of such power. This was no strength Erluin could control or harness; this strength could only belong to a powerful empire.
The dreams and glories of the Erluin people since the era of the late King Eke seemed nearly within reach.
“Valkyrie,” Wolmi murmured again, “Valkyrie.”
This silver-robed wizard appeared to have lost the extraordinary calm displayed by the silver-blooded; the stretch of time over tens of thousands of years seemed to replay before his eyes—even before the era of gold and silver had descended upon the earth, the Tower of Babel stood tall in the clouds, and the land was prosperous and lush, where gods and men lived together—before the chaos.
“That is Brynhildr, the Valkyrie queen, the thunder and fire of the heavens. Oh, Martha, who is he? How could he gain the loyalty and favor of the Valkyrie queen—”
“Mr. Wolmi, he is our lord.” Zeka proudly replied, raising his hand with great effort. “Reinforcements are in position; it’s time to counterattack!”
Reinforcements had arrived.
The super battleship of the Bud people—the Arkentaton—was gradually materializing from the illusion, the Mana statue shimmering under the sunlight, the towering hull resembling a fortress, with silver sails billowing like clouds. Beside this mighty ship, the first-tier battleships—Silver of Magic, Winterwolf’s Bite, and Light of Wisdom—had fully materialized, moving forward in unison. Signal flags rose from each battleship, repeatedly conveying the same message:
Reinforcements have arrived, launch the counterattack—
The silver fleet began to slowly turn, and dazzling magical flashes erupted once after another, the firepower density of the Erluin fleet finally surpassing the dragon beasts’ fireball barrage. Various colored lights crisscrossed in the sky. At last, the flying beast army of Jotungrund began to falter, their formation becoming scattered and losing their offensive momentum. A distant long howl rang out from the plains, as if the dragon beast army, granted amnesty, fled in panic, rushing past the broken walls of Lune Harbor like a howling gale.
Everyone on the battlefield was stunned by this sudden turn of events, even most of the Cruz people on the ground and in the harbor found it hard to believe they’d actually won—escaping from the claws of an entire dragon beast army—without relying on the Imperial Navy or any major Imperial army, relying solely on a meager harbor guard, and some… Erluins?
But the facts at hand spoke for themselves. The dragon beast army was retreating in disarray, gradually disappearing from sight, leaving only some distant little black dots along the horizon. The earlier fierce battle seemed like a disaster rampaging through a dream.
The Erluin silver fleet did not pursue; in fact, they lacked the strength to do so. Brendel anticipated more dragon beasts or other Jotungrund aerial forces on the plains—perhaps harpies and even more terrifying scorpion-tailed lions. The previously deployed dragon beast army, while scary, paled compared to what he had witnessed in the Altania mountain range in later years. The combined strength of all the lords underground would not be inferior to that of Madara a century later. These dragon beasts should not be enough to make the Queen of Dragons feel pain.
Signal flags were once again sent out between the fleets. The new Erluin navy cautiously set up defenses, wary of a second dragon beast attack. Meanwhile, as the Arkentaton re-entered the harbor, the Bud delegation met with Brendel.
If there was one person in this world, besides the Earth Sword Saint, that could earn the genuine respect of the Cruz people, it would undoubtedly be the master of the Mithril Fortress—Tuiraman Mithril Osetan, a leader of the Twelfth Ring Arcane Society among the Bud, who possessed half mortal blood and half silver blood.
If the local nobles at Lune Harbor had held some disdain for Brendel, upon seeing a row of silver-robed silver wizards, officially labeled as the military observation corps, disembarking from the warships, they instinctively fell silent. Just as the inherent pride of the imperial people was instinctive, the arrogance of the silver-blooded before mortals required no justification. The superiority of the Cruz people seemed trifling before the ancient beings who had experienced the War of the Saints. For most silver-blooded, the Flame King Gilt was their peer, and the chaotic era was their youth; they once fought alongside human heroes, yet on the White Tower, such experiences were utterly trivial.
Thus, the Empire was even less noteworthy.
Tuiraman was the youngest among the Bud but held a high status. Combined with his mortal bloodline, he appeared to be more solemn than many silver-robed wizards who had lived longer; nonetheless, he maintained the image of the hermit scholar from Golan-Elsen in front of Brendel. He smiled lightly at Brendel, saying, “Tanyia knew you would come to seek retribution, so she sent this old man out instead.”
“Did she think I wouldn’t trouble them because it’s you?” Brendel replied irritably. “I don’t expect you to clean up this mess, but Lord Tuiraman, you at least have to tell me what exactly you Bud people want.”
After saying this, Brendel fixed his gaze on the scholar-clad elder before him, as if afraid of missing any detail of his expression.
